


The Little Bird And His Frost Prince

by Sarcastic-Mess (MasterOfDisaster)



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Movie and Comic Canon mix and match, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), but remember, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 01:03:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterOfDisaster/pseuds/Sarcastic-Mess
Summary: Prompt: What if it is villain and hero and villain has hero pinned down and hero desperately tries to get free but villain just cups hero's cheek and says “poor poor hero” or something and color blooms on the hero's cheek and the villain just freezes.ORColour blooms on the skin of your soulmate when you touch them for the first time.ORClint just wants to be a superhero and save people. Having a soulmate is not an option, so he avoids it. It doesn't really work out for him, but that's okay.





	The Little Bird And His Frost Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Slight warning for Blood, the Death of original characters and one villain and Swearing. 
> 
> The Prompt is by the brilliant [ gingerly-writing ](https://www.gingerly-writing.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr which inspired me so much the scene in the prompt is not actually word for word in there. Oops. 
> 
> I have finally managed to post something again! (Ironic it's not the one I had started over a year ago to get a grip on writing Loki, though.)  
> It's really a curse. I either go back and edit constantly or I take a break from the story and write something else because inspiration struck for that story. It's annoying. 
> 
> Anyway, I wrote like two thirds of this in the last couple of days and it got a bit darker than I had intended in the beginning and the only one who proofread this one was me.  
> But I hope you enjoy it!

 

The first time Clint saw soul marks he was eleven and mistook them for bruises. 

It was after the show. Annie brushed down the horses, while Clint took care of the head ornaments. She pulled off her jacket and there were the purple and yellow curling around her left bicep. 

Jules, Annie's husband and the other half of the riding act, joined them in that moment, so Clint didn't say anything, but later, when they were sitting around a campfire, Clint timed it so he would catch Annie alone and gave her some salve that had helped with many sore muscles and bruises. 

“Oh,'' Annie said and smiled at him, like he was the sweetest thing. It made Clint uncomfortable. “These are my soulmate colours.” Her fingers stroked over her arm. 

“I don't know what that is.” 

“Everyone has a soulmate and when they touch you for the first time, skin on skin, colour appears on your skin. They have to want to touch you.” She looked over to the fire and Clint followed her gaze to where Jules was looking back with a smile. “He also has purple and yellow swirls on his left forearm. Purple for him, yellow for me.”

Clint had never seen those, but he paid attention to them now. 

The few years he had been in school no one had even mentioned soul marks or mates or colours. And the only thing Clint had seen on the skin of his parents had been bruises on his mother's. There had never been anything on his father's when he walked around the house in boxers and a tank top. 

Watching everyone else in the circus Clint didn't see any more colour on anyone else, but the visitors had swirling patterns on their hands and arms and one even on their calf. All in different ways and colour combinations. He also saw a few people who had only one colour on them, but no one could or wanted to explain how the colours worked.

Clint was fifteen when Iron Man swooped into the circus tent to chase a criminal and inspired Clint to do the same though it took being betrayed by Trickshot into hurting Barney to leave the circus and become a hero by himself. 

 

**Criminal Archer Terrorizes City.** That and variations of that were printed as the headlines across every newspaper and Clint stood soaked under the cover of a newsstand, the sound of the rain drowning out the complains of the guy telling Clint to buy the things he was reading. 

Clint was not a fucking criminal. Iron Man wasn't branded as a criminal; why was Clint? It just wasn't fair. It wasn't like he wanted to be celebrated and worshipped or something. He wanted to help people, save them, but it was really difficult when the police was chasing him and letting the real criminal do whatever they wanted. 

With a frustrated sigh Clint turned and left the newspaper stand before the man could do more than tell Clint off. 

 

Clint was seventeen and he spent his time either going through the city and using the shadows and darkness as cover to stop crime as Hawkeye or doing acrobatic tricks for the little money people were willing to part with. That money was mostly spent on maintaining his bow and Hawkeye costume and occasionally on food, but mostly he stole food and water and clothes if he had nothing that could be repaired anymore. He knew it wasn't good by any definition, but he was already sleeping in abandoned buildings or dark corners of churches or a homeless shelter when he became too hungry, chased by the police and child services. 

He had to survive somehow. 

 

He was also seventeen when he pressed himself into a corner to hide himself as he waited for the group of men beneath him to open the lock keeping the cargo container shut. 

His intel had been sure that there were humans in the container, kidnapped and sold to the highest bidder and shipped here to be enslaved. 

Clint was having none of it. 

“Can we get on with it? I don't have all day," one of the men said and looked around in disgust as if the mere air could somehow stain his suit. 

Another man, wearing already dirty things, went to the container and took off the chain and let it clatter to the ground, the sound rattling Clint’s bones. As the door creaked open, Clint put an arrow to the string of his bow and waited for the confirmation.

The man that opened it went inside and came out with a stumbling, dirty young girl in ripped clothes and she fell to her knees before the man in the suit who appraised her and then dismissed her with a flick of his wrist.

“She'll do. What else do you have?” 

_ What else.  _ As if these people were really nothing but things to him. 

A bout of anger warmed Clint's chilled bones and he got ready to release his first arrow when another guy grabbed the girl's wrist to pull her away, but he froze as she gasped loudly and flinched. 

A sickly green moved across her skin from under his hand in swirly patterns and she reached out with a shaky hand to brush the bare skin of his forearm. A brown appeared on her skin wrapping around the green and the patterns appeared mirrored on his skin where she had touched him. 

_ These two are soulmates,  _ Clint thought numbly, not sure what he would do now. 

“How bothersome”, the man in the suit said and made the decision for Clint. A moment later the man had pulled out a gun and shot the two soulmates in the head. First him, then her. 

Her scream tore through Clint's heart and he saw the colors on her skin turn black and white, before she too collapsed. Dead. 

Without thinking Clint straightened up and let an arrow loose. And drew the next one. And the next one. And again and again until he was the only person left alive, staring down at their corpses, feeling angry and gratified, but most of all, just sad. 

He climbed down and collected his arrows, thinking about how he should deal with the bodies, when he heard a sound from inside the container. 

The face of a woman slowly came out of the darkness and he could have hit himself. Of course there were more. How had he not thought about that before? 

“It's okay”, he said and held out his empty hand. “No one's going to hurt you anymore.” 

Behind the woman more faces came closer. A dozen of all ages and genders and ethnicity. 

He kept up the stream of reassurances, though he wasn't sure if they even understood him. They eyed him and the mask he was wearing suspiciously, but they allowed him to lead them out of the warehouse, while he ignored their tears as they caught sight of the dead girl. 

The sound of approaching sirens made Clint tense up, but he still got the group a bit farther away and to a half wall, so they could all sit down. 

“Everything will be okay now,'' he said, smiling at them and before they could do anything or worse, the police reached them, he ran.

 

The next day he spent his time modifying his costume. A higher collar and longer sleeves and gloves. He was not going to let any skin show that wasn't necessary. He was never going to let a potential soulmate match put him or others in danger. 

Sadly he quickly realized that that wasn't going to work. He couldn't feel the string on his fingertips and the sleeves were restricting him, though the high collar was nice. 

Maybe gloves with the fingers he needed cut off? 

It was all still a work in progress.

 

Iron Man was becoming more and more popular, was celebrated more and more by everyone while Clint was becoming the biggest enemy of law enforcement. 

And what made things even worse, everyone was still calling him the Criminal Archer. 

Clint hated it and in a fit of hollow pride, he did something stupid.

In the middle of the day he snuck into the building facing the Daily Bugle and sent an arrow through an open window to pin a message to the board on top of a sketch someone had created from eye witness statements. 

_ My name's Hawkeye. At least get something right.  _

The newspaper published it immediately, going on about how he was endangering the New York population and all that jazz. Nothing new. 

Police canvassed the offices and fluttered around, but they couldn't figure out how anyone was able to make a shot like that and Clint just watched them waste their time. Again. 

The sketch hadn't even been close to accurate. Clint didn't feel too bad for ruining it. 

 

Couple months after Clint’s eighteenth birthday the Avengers held a press conference announcing they're banding together and having headquarters somewhere in New York, but all the supervillains shouldn't get too confident, because Tony Stark was financing the Avengers and they could be anywhere in a moment's notice. 

Clint read it in the newspapers and the picture depicting Tony Stark and Captain America with uncountable reporters and people cheering for them, made him irrationally angry. 

Not only were they revered by the public, now they were even provoking their enemies and endangering citizens. 

He walked away from the newsstand before he did something he would regret. 

 

Not even twenty four hours later Clint was fiddling with the gloves of his costume (A full glove prevented him from feeling the string and no glove would expose him to accidentally touching his soulmate and half a glove was hard to create well with his completely self taught knowledge) when the heap of metal and wires that served as his police scanner (and still shocked him every second time he touched it) exploded with noise.

Different people were trying to get locations and codes heard, until one said  _ “Everyone shut up. This is not a situation we have any codes for. Robots are invading the city. The Avengers are here, but we need all hands on deck. Police, EMTs, firefighters. Civilians are everywhere in the line of fire.  _

Clint was up in costume in under a minute and off as soon as he had a specific location.

 

The streets were in chaos. Even in broad daylight Clint wasn't noticed in his getup and as he stood close to the barricades police had erected to try to keep people out of the way of danger.

Robots that were halfway human shaped were flying and running and destroying everything and everyone they came across. 

A red streak in the sky indicated where Iron Man was battling. Lightning struck between buildings and Thor's laugh echoed. The Hulk was jumping high enough he was basically flying and the Wasp alternated between fighting on the ground and flying up high in her smaller form. The only one constantly on the ground was Captain America. 

Clint could find a way up onto a roof and pick off the robots, but he neither had unlimited arrows nor did the Avengers need the air support. Law enforcement was struggling more with evacuation and trying to get out trapped civilians while also fending off robots. Five People, no matter that they were superheroes, could not protect the whole city by themselves. 

A scream pulled Clint's attention to an overturned car where a robot was holding up a police man and trying to rip his head off. He fired off two arrows in quick succession separating the robot's hands from the rest of it, enabling the police man to push the body away and the hands of his head. Clint was there a moment later and stomped on robot until the light behind its eyes flickered out. 

The police man was looking at Clint now, eyes widening, obviously recognizing him, but Clint couldn't deal with that. The smell of fire reached his nose and when he looked around he spotted the smoke coming from the car. Securing his bow back onto his back he climbed onto the top of the car (which was now the side) and looked into it past the remnants of a few glass shards along the sides. 

Two adults were in the front seats, slumped downwards, but held secure by the seat belts. A little girl was in bumper seat in the back, wide eyes on Clint, tears on her cheeks. She didn't look too banged up, but there was a lot of blood on the parents and from Clint's vantage point he couldn't make out whether or not they were breathing. 

The edge of the window dug into his stomach as he leaned down. 

“I'm going to get you out of here.” He didn't bother trying to open the seat belt normally, just pulled out a knife and cut through it. 

“What about Mommy and Daddy?” She clutched at his arms as she started to slide downwards. 

“I'll get them out too.” He put the knife between his teeth to make it easier, before he grabbed her and lifted her up. The police man was still standing there, looking unsure what to do. Clint handed the girl over. “We need stretchers for her parents and to get them out of here.” He didn't wait for an answer, just moved over to the other door. 

Fire was licking up the opposite window, blowing smoke into Clint's eyes. Squinting Clint yanked at the warped door. It took three tries before it finally budged. As he cut the belt of the father and prevented him from sliding away, it occurred to him that moving someone after this type of accident was probably a bad idea, but he didn't really have a choice. 

The smell of melting rubber and hot metal intensified. 

Time seemed to slow down incredibly as Clint pulled the man up, out of the car and into the waiting arms of two policemen. A third was shooting at robots coming too close. 

Getting the woman out was harder. He had to lie down on his belly and hook his calves through the open back window to not fall inside, before leaning down as far as he could and pulling at the woman. Part of her shirt had caught fire and heat made sweat gather under his mask. 

Hands were tugging on Clint's clothes. The metal turned a patch of skin on his forearm red, when he brushed against it roughly. More hands grabbed him and the woman, pulling them over the ground backwards away from the car. 

Seconds later there was a loud sound and the car was engulfed in flames. 

“Shit, man. You okay?” The policeman Clint had helped was wiping sweat off his forehead, eyes flicking from Clint to the car and back. 

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and got to his feet. “I'm good. I want to help in the evacuation.” If he focused on how close he had been to blowing up, he would have to crawl into a corner to panic, but there were still so many people in the way of danger. 

“We can use all the help we can get,'' the woman said. She had blood streaked across her white uniform and the hand wrapped around her gun. “Get a walkie and join the others East. There's a building with trapped civilians and robots.” The insignia on her shirt identified her as a Sergeant.

“Got it.” 

One robot tried to kill him, but the knife that he pushed into just under the plate on its side immediately snuffed out the light in its eyes and made it crumble to the ground. He repeated it with the next one, trying to confirm the theory. 

Running as fast as he could while still be able to talk so others could understand him, he lifted the walkie up to his mouth. He was definitely not fast enough for his liking. More training was in order, but first things first. “To everyone who can hear me, the robots' power source seem to be by their right hip area. I repeat, smash their right hip and they're down immediately.” 

A high pitched whine echoed from the building up high and Clint saw the body of a robot fall out of the sky reflected by glass windows a second before a red streak flew by. 

_ “He's right”, _ a vaguely robotic voice came from the walkie as Clint rounded an abandoned car.  _ “Good job, kid.” _

A wave of embarrassment and shock ran through Clint. Iron  _ fucking  _ Man had just called him kid and praised him. What a day. 

The building the sergeant had talked about was easy to spot. Robots were crawling and flying all over the place, but there was one building where they were banging against the walls on the ground and a couple were scattered over the walls and some were swarming the roof. Screams of horror were audible. 

Now was a time like any other to try out the new arrow type he had been developing, because there was no way he was able to fight his way through all those machines before the people inside were seriously hurt. 

The arrow flew off his string and he braced himself, just before the cinch pulled in the rope and Clint went flying. A string of curses flew from Clint's mouth as pain shot through his shoulder and he smacked into the side of the building, though it was thankfully high enough that he could grab over the edge and pull himself up. 

At least the arrow had stayed in whatever it had grabbed and the rope hadn't given in and it all hadn't stopped working in the middle and none of the robots had snatched him out of the air and...

Okay, let's stop being so negative, Barton. There was no time for that.

Robots, some less human shaped than the ones Clint had seen before, were crowding in on a guy in a suit. Rushing forward Clint gripped his bow in bow hands and swung it at the nearest one. It tilted, partially caved in and Clint didn't stop moving. He tried to hit the power source, but he could just barely hold them off. 

“Dumb pieces of tech”, the suit cursed and backed away from a grabby hand claw. Clint threw himself forward into its path and smashed the tip of his bow into its right hip. It crumbled to the ground. 

Clint put his bow onto his back and quickly pulled two knives in reverse grips and started slashing. It took a few minutes, but soon Clint was surrounded by heaps and bits of metal. 

“You okay?”, Clint asked as he turned towards the man and if he hadn't already been breathless from the fight he definitely would have been now. 

The man was absolutely gorgeous. 

“Of course”, he huffed, brushing dust off his front. “What were you doing? Attempting to save me?” His sneer annoyed Clint, though his accent felt like hot water on tense muscles. 

“Yes, actually.” 

“Humans really are stupid.” He looked Clint up and down and just as Clint got riled up to retort, green smoke blew in his face. 

Coughing he stumbled back, trying to fan it away. When he looked up the man was gone. 

_ “Found the origin point”,  _ came through the walkie.  _ “I shut it all off.”  _

_ “Good job, Iron Man.”  _ The Wasp, maybe? 

Clint rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He had wanted to help, protect and save and now he got magic blown into his face from some mysterious guy who had been an asshole even though Clint had tried to help?

Was it always going to be like this? 

 

It was only in his hideout that Clint noticed the three parallel slashes across the chest of his uniform. They had gone completely through, but his own chest was completely unmarred. He celebrated his luck with buying better material to create a uniform chest piece. 

 

Childish laughter chased away the hunger as Clint walked on his hands before flipping over and pretending to fall. Parents gave the kids some money to throw into Clint’s hat and Clint bowed, folding himself in two, before rolling into the next trick. 

He needed to keep up the energy, needed to delight and make some money. Upgrades to his uniform had absorbed too much and there hadn’t really been anything left for food, so he was functioning on nothing and it was making him a bit woozy. 

The subway arrived and all the people on the platform rushed inside while the ones coming from the cart either rushed up the stairs or onto another train. Minutes later Clint was basically alone and he crouched down beside the threadbare hat, fighting the exhaustion and hunger as he wiped off the sweat off his forehead and counted his meager earnings. It would be enough for today at least. 

He pushed it all into his pockets and made his way over to the stairs, when he felt an itch between his shoulder blades and he turned to look. 

A woman was staring at him without even making the attempt to hide it. She was wearing a dark pantsuit and her black hair fell freely over one shoulder. She was beautiful and intense and there couldn’t have been a bigger difference between them. His shoes were falling apart and his t-shirt and jeans had holes Clint hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet and was dirty from basically rolling around on the ground. 

“Can I help you?”, Clint asked genuinely. Even if she was a bit weird, if he could do something…

“It is incredibly annoying that you mean that.” She scowled and then turned, her heels clicking against the ground as she disappeared behind a pillar. 

Clint blinked in confusion as she didn’t emerge from the other side again and he shook his head, before continuing his way back out of the station. 

 

New York was being overrun by puppies. Poodles, huskies, pomeranians, german shepherds, border collies, labradors and ones Clint couldn’t identify. 

They weren’t attacking anyone, but they were everywhere. Traffic slowed down even more, sidewalks were being flooded by people getting accosted by dogs. 

Clint had suited up and the Avengers had assembled, but Clint wasn’t sure what they could do about it. All Clint could manage was pulling puppies out of the way of danger and try not to get sucked in by the cuteness of it all. 

It was not easy.

He still had the walkie from the robot battle and had calibrated it until he had the Avengers comm frequency figured out and could hear them talk. 

_ “This one looks like you, Cap”,  _ said the robotic voice of Iron Man. 

_ “Concentrate, shellhead”,  _ answered another male voice.  _ “Thor, do you have an eye on Loki?” _

Apparently an alien magic user who was also Thor’s brother was responsible for the pupocalypse. Loki loved playing pranks and Thor had assured them Loki was harmless, though Wasp had pointed out Loki had most likely caused the robot attack. 

The world of superheroes, man.

_ “I think so.”  _ The address Thor rattled off made Clint blink and look up at the nearest street sign. That was like a block from where he was.

He lifted a terrier off a parked car and into the arms of a little girl who giggled in delight, before Clint started to run. There wasn’t really a plan forming in his head and really, what was someone like Clint going to do against a magic user, but he felt like he had to go there.

A huge dark gray wolf sat in the middle of an intersection, just watching with a man next to it and one hand on its head. How had Clint not even thought about the possibility that the magic user from the roof from a while ago could be the magic user Loki?

“You here to save me again?” The tone was scathing and he raised a scorning eyebrow. 

Clint immediately bristled and put his hands on his hips with a glare. “It’s a better past time than unleashing killer robots and adorable puppies on the city.” 

“I had nothing to do with those crude pieces of metal.” Loki grimaced and carded his fingers through fur, the motion looking almost absentmindedly. The wolf pressed against Loki’s legs in a way that was so comfortable, so familiar, so relaxed that it kind of took away Clint’s anger.

No one this nice to animals, no one who was being loved this much by animals could be too evil. 

“Then why? Why do this?” As if on cue a pack of different kinds of dogs raced by, tumbling over each other yapping at each other. “I mean, it’s cute chaos, but what’s the point?” 

Loki shrugged and the smirk transformed him into something dangerous, something unpredictable. “Fun.” 

“That’s insane”, Clint reflexively said, an unnameable emotion curling in his stomach. It was the wrong thing to say.

The smirk disappeared and the hand tightened around fur, making the wolf stand up. “More insane than running around in tights to save ungrateful humans who stare at you as you roll around in dirt and depend on their limited kindness?” 

Clint should be afraid. Loki was alien and had magic and Clint was not even old enough to legally drink. The wolf was snarling now, showing sharp teeth that could rip Clint apart in seconds and any other sane person would probably be terrified right now. 

“You have a point”, Clint said instead and it was his time to shrug. 

Surprise flitted over Loki’s face and the tension in his shoulders fell away. “Well. Good.” 

The awkwardness of the moment made Clint smile a little, his chest warming and cooling again as the walkie crackled to life. 

_ “I am close to my brother and will make him see reason momentarily.”  _

Rolling his eyes Loki smoothed down the fur down the wolf’s back. “It looks like my time is up.”

“Maybe next time mess with the Avengers directly and not involve the whole city?” Clint wasn’t even sure why he said it. It wasn’t like he had any sway over what Loki did or even that that had been the intention of it all, but Clint had to try. 

Loki paused half turned and looked at Clint, eyes intense and bright. “We will see, little bird.” Before Clint could react Loki disappeared with his wolf in a puff of gray smoke. 

His last words would continue to echo in Clint’s thoughts for a long while before he was able to sleep.

 

A couple years passed. 

Some things stayed the same. The press was not happy with him and his secret identity while they loved the Avengers though none of their real names were public record. Spiderman and the Falcon joined the Team under cheers. Clint was still struggling on the streets, but the people he saved, the smiles he got was all worth it. The police were trying less and less to seriously arrest him and sometimes even looked forward to his help with evacuations and petty crime. He only thought about soulmates when he saw the marks on other people and assured himself he was doing the right thing in avoiding it. His life was dangerous and unstable and he had killed people. Bad people, but still. Who could ever want that?

And then there was Loki. 

They didn’t cross paths all that often, though whenever Loki came to New York and unleashed his own unique brand of chaos on its citizens they found each other meeting. Loki didn’t kill people though Clint had the feeling Loki wouldn’t tear himself apart if someone did die accidentally. 

Clint tried to stop him every time he saw him, but his determination and enthusiasm just didn’t make up for the lack of experience and frankly the lack of magic. They clashed, anger and frustration heavy and sharp between them, when Clint thought Loki was too careless, his actions too close to being a homicidal maniac or when Clint was being too righteous for Loki, but most often there was a teasing undertone beneath it all. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but conversations and banter developed between them and Loki called him  _ little bird  _ all the time. 

Their fights were bordering on lazy. Clint knew he would never able to take Loki down, but he still tried and Loki usually just used his magic to push Clint and his arrows away in more and more ridiculous fashion. 

Clint would never admit it out loud, but he kind of looked forward to those interactions. The silliness, the fun of it made him feel lighter and more confident about where he was going with his life. It was ridiculous.

 

Central Park was white. Snow covered all the grass and trees with ice covering water and the glass of the lanterns. Clint’s breath left him in white puffs and goosebumps covered his bare upper arms. 

Loki was lounging on a frost covered bench like the cold wasn’t affecting him and smirking at Clint like he thought he knew that Clint would grumble about it being July and then fight him to stop it. 

Attacking Loki was the last thing on Clint’s mind at the moment. 

Clint turned once around himself and then walked over to the bench and let himself fall to sit beside Loki ignoring the suspicious expression. “It’s so beautiful.” He could feel the corners of his mouth curl up on their own and his face was surely one of wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

Pure white wherever he was looking, only his own footprints ruining the image. Snowflakes were falling softly around them and the harsh metal and glass buildings of New York were invisible through them.

Loki cleared his throat beside him. “You have never seen snow before?” He looked relaxed and composed though his hands were tense on his thighs and his eyes seemed to stay on Clint unwaveringly, when Clint glanced at him for a second. There was that feeling blooming in Clint’s chest again that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold. 

“It has snowed a couple times, but it turned to brown sludge immediately.” He just wanted to stay here forever, but he could already feel the cold creep under his clothes. They weren’t made to withstand this. 

“Where I grew up it always looked like this. Snow and ice everywhere without nothing else but stone.” 

Clint looked at Loki in surprise who blinked and seemed to realize what he had said, before he looked away clearing his throat again. 

“Jotunheim.” Loki looked so tense a bone could snap any second. Was Clint supposed to know what that was? It seemed to be a touchy subject.

“Never heard about it, but sounds cool.” Clint saw Loki startle in surprise, a flash vulnerability in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to mention it. “Get it? Cool because of snow.” 

Loki’s eye roll was probably visible from space, but he was starting to smile with no hint of malice or arrogance. “Original.” 

Clint wanted to figure out what else he could do to make Loki smile even more, make him relax and soft. His fingertips tingled with the urge to touch. 

Oh, this was going to be a problem.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes, but it wasn’t really awkward. Clint didn’t want to reveal whatever was building inside him, but he knew if he just left it would ruin everything. 

“You know what a circus is? I grew up in that after I ran away from home at around ten or so.” Clint looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together. The cold was getting to him, but the heat of Loki’s stare spread over his whole left side. “Changed cities every couple weeks or quicker. Had horses and big wildcats and a pair of elephants. Acrobats and all those kinds of things. It was good for a couple of years, before I washed up here in New York.” 

“And now the little bird saves the vermin.” 

Clint rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “You do know my actual name is Hawkeye, right?” 

“But is that any fun?” Loki’s smirk was back, looking incredibly attractive. 

Clint really wanted to…

Thunder cracked through the air and lightning illuminated them. 

“That’s my cue.” Loki unfolded himself from the bench, towering over Clint. He had the bearing of a King and the temperament of a trickster and Clint watched Loki vanish into thin air as he wished he didn’t. 

The snow had started to melt by the time Clint left the park and started walking to his latest hideout. 

Loki was a supervillain and one of the Avengers’ arch nemesis. He terrorized humans, because it was fun. Clint and Loki often were civil with each other, but Clint was a lowly wanna be vigilante with absolutely nothing to offer. Liking Loki, no, just being attracted to Loki was such a bad idea, living in the sewers was brilliant in comparison. 

It didn’t stop him from thinking about Loki with the beautiful winter landscape in the background before he fell asleep.

 

One the one side Clint really wanted to intervene, but on the other hand he was only human and would most likely die trying to stop these two aliens’ pissing contest. 

Storm clouds darkened the sky and every time someone landed from being thrown the asphalt cracked underneath, though neither Loki or Thor showed any injuries. Insults were shouted back and forth, but Clint couldn’t make out what had caused this particular brand of hostility. 

The crunch of gravel got Clint to look away and over to Fenrir who was ambling up to his side. The wolf looked bored with everything that was happening and just sat down next to where Clint was hiding behind a truck and rubbed his huge head against Clint’s stomach. 

“Okay, you big scary animal.” With a smile that was more fond than anything else Clint started scratching Fenrir behind his ears and down his back like he had seen Loki do a hundred times. The fur was incredibly soft and warm. A rumbly purr was audible from Fenrir’s chest. 

As Thor made lightning strike and blacken the ground Clint wondered when Fenrir had turned from this huge intimidating and dangerous creature into something Clint could just pet without absolute no worry he would bite him. Maybe around the time all non-living objects such as cars had been turned into ice cream and candy or the time Thor was fighting crime as a frog. 

“Enough”, Loki bellowed, making Thor skid back, Mjolnir sparking over the ground. “This has become redundant. I will NOT go to Asgard with you to follow Odin’s command like the brainless chicken you all are.” 

“That shouldn’t be so funny”, Clint whispered to Fenrir and scratched down his sides. 

“Brother”, Thor started, but Loki shut him up by just vanishing into thin air. 

“Enjoy the show?”

Clint flinched away and fell onto his ass. Definitely didn’t expect Loki to appear beside him. 

The magic user was glaring down at Clint, but it wasn’t really clear if he was still angry with Thor or if it was genuinely directed at Clint. Without waiting for Clint to form any sort of reply Loki put his hand in Fenrir’s scruff and they both disappeared again. 

_ Weird.  _

 

Clint wasn’t sure how it had come to this. 

Sure, he remembered the woman approach him in the supermarket, but hadn’t seen the neatly manicured hand close around Clint’s wrist. For a second panic flooded him at the thought of seeing soulmate colours appear on his skin, but that was quickly chased away by the swooping sensation of losing the ground beneath his feet in a way too familiar bout of magic. He had been thrown into a cell in a big windowless room that looked like it had been carved out of a huge rock before he could orient himself. 

“What the hell, Lady?” 

The glare she turned on him was enough to freeze over fire. She didn’t even say anything, before she threw her blonde hair over her shoulder and stalked out of the room. 

Well then. 

He was only wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a light jacket and had no tools with him, though it probably wouldn’t have helped anyway. There were no cracks in the walls and the bars had no door or hinges or lock to pick. 

Hopelessness threatened to crush him and he pressed his fists onto his eyes, trying to push it away and channel his usual determination and recklessness. He was getting out of here. It didn’t matter what the woman wanted from him, she was not going to get it. 

Hours later he might be revising his attitude. 

The bars hadn’t budged at all and his fingers were scratched from trying to pry stones away from the walls. Sweat plastered his hair to his skull and dirt covered everything from his clothes to his face and hands. He was exhausted and maybe he shouldn’t have done all this work if the lady wanted to fight him, but it couldn’t be undone right now. 

The sound of heels made him look up and glare at the woman who had brought him here. She wasn’t wearing normal clothes anymore, but tight green leather with cleavage for days and a green headpiece that seemed to float on his forehead and holding her blond hair back. A light green cape was floating around her in the non existent breeze. 

“So what’s up?” 

She sneered. “You’re not even worth being the dirt on the bottom of my shoe.” 

“Then what do you want? Have we met before or something?” 

With another disgusted look she reached through the bars like they didn’t exist and grabbed his wrist again, when he wasn’t quick enough to dodge. 

The sensation of teleporting wasn’t any better this time than the first time. He stumbled and fell to his knees. For a moment he just stared at his hands, the blood on them, the tiredness making his skin feel tight and his head light headed. 

“Amora.” 

Clint’s head snapped up, wind whipping into his face. 

There were on a mountain somewhere high up, white clouds surrounding them, but even the gorgeous view couldn’t tear Clint’s eyes off Loki. He was wearing his usual battle outfit, but Clint had never seen him look like this before. This was not the guy who pranked a whole city, who made Clint laugh. This was the man the Avengers warned the population about, the one powerful and dangerous enough to destroy humanity. 

Magic swirled around Loki feeling heavy even from the distance. Daggers were fastened in sheaths on his hips and his eyes were narrow and furious. 

“I assume you want to rekindle our affair.” His voice was so cold it sent shivers down Clint’s spine. 

“We’re meant for each other, Loki.” She stepped forward a bit, but Clint saw it only out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t look away from Loki. 

“So you take the little bird and hurt him?” Loki knew what he looked like without the Hawkeye costume? “You decided that getting rid of him would make you endear yourself to me?” 

“This human is nothing compared to what we could be. Together we can show everyone how powerful we are. They will submit to us and fear us and we will stand above them. Together.” She sounded manic.

Loki looked over at Clint, held his gaze and something flashed through his eyes, lips pressed firmly together, before he relaxed from one blink to the next and smiled. “That sounds perfect.” 

Amora rushed over and Clint could only stay on his knees and stare as she threw her arms around Loki’s neck to hug him. Over her shoulder Loki made eye contact with Clint again, his smile gone. 

_ What is happening?,  _ Clint thought and immediately wished he hadn’t. 

A glint of metal in the sun. Loki’s hand was rising and then one of this dagger was protruding out of Amora’s neck, covered in blood. Like in slow motion it twisted and moved and without audible warning Amora’s body slid downwards and sprawled onto the ground in a graceless heap. Her head followed five seconds later, leaving Loki to tower over her with his blood dripping knife and an indecipherable expression on his face. 

“How badly are you hurt?” Loki just put the dagger back into its sheath without looking at it, before quickly coming over to kneel before Clint. 

“Scraps I got trying to escape”, Clint automatically answered, still staring. 

“She took you because of me.” His voice was tight, his hands reaching for Clint’s, but not finishing the motion. “I’m sorry.” 

Clint had been kidnapped to be used to lure Loki out. Loki had apologised to Clint. Loki had know about Clint’s secret identity for who knew how long and hadn’t done anything about it. 

Loki had killed someone for Clint. 

“I don’t understand.” Clint sounded so small he didn’t recognize his own voice. “Why would she think that she would get to you through me? Why did you come?” 

“It was a ruse.” Loki shrugged, his whole body language transforming into something indifferent, uncaring. “Pretended to care for you, so I could lure her out and finally be rid of her once and for all.” 

It was more plausible than what Clint had started to think, but…

“What, you thought this was all real?” Loki sneered, expression close to the one Amora had put on when she had looked at Clint. “I am a God and you humans are nothing but toys to play with and discard when you’re done being useful. I’m done with you now.” He snapped his fingers and magic enveloped Clint. 

When he blinked it away he found himself back at his latest hideout, still streaked with dirt, but hands healed completely. He stared at the unmarred skin and felt his heart adopt the damage instead. 

 

Months passed in a haze of avoidance and loneliness and Clint spent this twenty-second birthday holed up in a church bell tower watching pigeons and getting drunk for the first time. It made him descend into a dark pit of despair and before the hangover faded he swore he would never drink again. 

Apparently being rejected by someone before you even realised you liked that someone was a bitch. The more you know.

He didn’t see Loki again. The pranks played on the city and Avengers lessened or Clint paid less attention to where Loki was, focused more on working in the shadows. The press speculated about him being dead and civilians looked surprised to see him more frequently. 

The worst of it all was that even though Loki had used Clint, had dismissed him Clint still missed it all. Their conversations, their banter and whatever scheme Loki might concoct next. Even with hurt still sharp under his skin he ached to return to that time, but he wasn’t going to seek Loki out. He wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself and grovel to a God who didn’t want anything to do with him. 

It changed when Clint’s radio sparked to life and he heard Loki had started killing people. 

Anger chased away all doubts and Clint zipped up his top to under his chin and tugged his gloves slash armguards on as he rushed out. 

 

The Avengers were fighting creatures Clint had never seen before, but he couldn’t be bothered by that right now. 

With no hesitation he climbed onto a car and then onto lamp post, balancing on it easily as he pulled back the string of his bow and let the arrow fly directly at Loki who was hovering over the street. The arrow nicked his cheek and he whirled around completely, magic flaring out of him. 

“You’re fucking killing people now?”, Clint shouted and watched Loki’s eyes widen, watched him falter in surprise. “The incredible God of Mischief stooped down to kill people for entertainment?” 

Loki levitated closer, his body language hesitant, but Clint had been fooled before. 

“Do I really need to kick your ass?” Clint pulled back another arrow, aiming it unwaveringly at Loki’s forehead.

“It’s been a while, little bird.” 

Hurt twisted up his insides. “Don’t call me that”, Clint snarled. He had loved the nickname, but now it just tasted bitter. 

He let the arrow fly, watched it until it froze directly in front of Loki’s face. Gentle fingers plucked it out of the air and ran over the end feathers. 

“I suppose that is fair. Humans are so fragile with their emotions.” 

“Come down here and I show you fucking fragile.” Clint let another arrow fly, knowing he was wasting them, but couldn’t care. 

A smirk curled up Loki’s lips and it was so familiar, so mockingly fond, Clint wanted to scream. 

Bullets whizzed by Clint from behind him and he saw Loki’s eyes widen, before Clint flipped off the lamp post and back onto the car. 

“You make your minions do your dirty work now?”, Clint called out, sliding down the front windshield and crouching down next to the tire. 

“I didn’t tell them…”

“Oh, bullshit.” He ran his fingers over the arrows in his quiver, making sure the number in his head was correct. He would last a bit, but ultimately he was outnumbered even with the Avengers somewhere around. 

“Bird, I…” 

“I told you not to call me that.” His legs propelled him upwards as he shot an arrow. “ _ You _ are not allowed to-” 

Pain ripped away his words, his breath, his balance. Ringing filled his ears, hard concrete pressed against his back as blue sky filled his vision. Wet heat spread from his neck, soaking into his clothes and hair. 

_ I got shot,  _ he thought dimly.  _ I wasn’t fast enough. I was distracted. The armor didn’t stop the bullet.  _

“-dare die”, filtered in slowly into Clint’s hearing. 

He opened his eyes (hadn’t noticed he had closed them) and found Loki leaning over him, eyes wide and frantic. 

“I will not let you die. You are not allowed to die.” Tears were gathering in Loki’s eyes and Clint wanted to ask why he cared. 

Liquid filled his throat and a cough made his way out, blood splattering Loki’s shoulder. Clint felt Loki’s hands on his throat, tearing away fabric and pressing down on the wound. Or maybe he only imagined it through the heat and coldness flashing through his body. 

“I’m sorry. My little bird, it’s all my fault, but listen to me. You’re not going to die. You’re too stubborn, too fierce. You can’t give up.” Loki didn’t stop talking. Endless words and sounds, but Clint started losing his grip on consciousness, on reality. 

Was that magic swirling in patterns around them or Clint’s mind playing tricks? Was it Loki’s hands on his skin or Clint’s blood? 

He wished he had been shot anywhere else. He could be talking then, could tell Loki his feelings, because it really didn’t matter now, did it. Clint was as good as dead and it hadn’t even happened during some heroic act. He just had been stupid. Stupid and in love and…

Darkness pulled him under like it had expected him. 

 

Creatures crumbled to dust in a single second. The Avengers moved in confusion, but didn’t find any ambling around. Falcon spotted the Trickster on the ground next to a car a human shaped body underneath him. Falcon was quick to get everyone to assemble on his location. 

Spider man was sure Loki was strangling the human, but Thor felt the magic being woven out of the air, had felt the healing magic countless times in Asgard. 

They watched. Seconds turned into minutes and they kept watching until Loki shakily exhaled. 

“Please”, some of the Avengers believed to have heard, but none of them knew for sure. 

The human’s chest wasn’t moving and then it was. A little at first, then full breaths. 

Avengers approached and formed a half circle next to Loki. Loki was pale, sweaty and shaking. Blood covered the human’s, the man’s front, but there was no mistaken Hawkeye’s purple costume. 

Something caught Captain America’s eye and he leaned forward to push the man’s collar out of the way even more. There was no wound, the blood the only indication of what happened. Well, not quite. 

“A soulmark”, the Wasp gasped, hands covering her mouth, but it was too late. 

Dark blue lines covered Hawkeye’s pale skin for all of them to see. One by one they turned to Loki, for who else could it be? 

Loki was not at his best and his reaction was slow and not hidden away. Wonder and amazement crossed his face, before panic set in. He had put his little bird in danger again and again and now they were bound to each other by the ways of Midgard magic? He had been able to save him this time, but what about next time? He might not have enough magic, not enough time. 

His little bird's unfocused gaze was burned into Loki's mind. The gurgling sounds of blood and breath and desperation as he clung to life with talons befitting his name.

Taking his leave from Midgard had not worked after Amora, but this was incentive enough. He could return to Asgard or Jotunheim or start a new life in any of the other realms. It was possible. He could wander through the realms and then the little bird would forget about him and find happiness without Loki and…

Mjölnir collided with Loki’s skull.

 

“Ah, you’re awake. How do you feel?” 

Sluggish. Weighted down and floating at the same time. 

Clint blinked at the white ceiling, his senses slowly returning to him. Softness blanketing him up to his shoulders, pressure in the crook of his elbow, the same hand on open air. The smell of sterility and medicine. Dryness on his tongue and in his throat. 

“Hawkeye?” 

He turned his head slowly, knowing he wasn’t wearing his mask and costume, but his brain wasn’t working completely. Was his memory not working or did he really not know who the man beside the bed was? The sound coming out of his mouth was definitely an attempt of a question, but pain scratched against his throat and words wouldn’t form. 

“Oh, sorry. Of course.” The man turned and then came back with a plastic cup. “Slowly.” 

The ice chips melted on Clint’s tongue and he hummed in pleasure as it soothed on the way down. 

“I’m Doctor Bruce Banner. I’m with the Avengers. Do you remember what happened?” 

So Clint didn't know who the man was, but Avengers was good. Maybe. Because he was Hawkeye, a vigilante in New York. That made sense. And he was in a hospital bed. He didn’t feel injured, but maybe he was on painkillers though he didn’t feel numb or loopy or whatever it felt like when you’re on painkillers. There was just the tiredness and the lingering ache in his throat. 

_ Flash of heat and wet and pain.  _

“I got shot”, Clint rasped, the memories rushing back and he reached up to touch instinctively. There was no bandage, only smooth skin under his fingertips. 

_ Loki apologizing and encouraging Clint as he touches Clint, as he tries to save him.  _

“It was a very close call, but you’re fine now.” Banner gave him a couple more ice chips, before he put it away.

Clint was sure Loki had been there and had worked to heal him. 

Banner nervously took off his glasses and rubbed them clean on his sweater. “You should get some more rest. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.” He smiled awkwardly, barely not meeting Clint’s eyes. “I will come back in a bit to check on you.” 

Then Clint was left alone and confused in a strange place. Getting more rest was the last thing on his mind. He had to find out where exactly he was. Banner had been frustratingly vague.

And what had happened to Loki?

His throat itched. 

He managed to pull the needle out of his arm without much trouble and his feet supported him when he stood up, but there was a second of shaky doubt. 

The tiles were cold under his bare feet and he spared only one thought to whose the sweatpants and t-shirt he was wearing belonged to, before he moved to the door. 

Locked. 

The Avengers had locked him in the room more like a prisoner than a patient. Determination chased away the weakness in his body. He was not going to be trapped here, not by the Avengers, not by anyone. 

He rummaged through drawers quickly, looking for anything that would help him get through the door, but the only thing he might be able to use was a tiny scalpel. With a frown he straightened up, options going through his mind as he turned towards the door, but something caught his eye in the glass of the wall cabinets. 

Blue curled around his throat, marking his skin in a way he had avoided all his life. It would never disappear, would never be completed unless he saw Loki again, unless Loki’s reaction to Clint dying had been more genuine than him pushing Clint away before. 

The door didn’t budge at all. The glass wasn’t scratched by the scalpel and there was no lock to pick. He needed to get out. He needed to find Loki. 

It might be crazy, but he climbed onto the bed and pried away the vent cover. His arms shook as he pulled himself inside, cold metal biting into the skin of his forearms as he scooched through the tight confines. 

Sweat dripped out of his hair and down his neck and the feeling of blood pulsing out of him came back. Gritting his teeth he pushed it away. He was not dead, not even dying and now he only had to get out of here. 

Hallways and living rooms peeked through other vent covers and Clint continued on crawling. He would know where to get out when he saw it. 

“...not tell him?”, a female voice echoed down the vent and Clint took extra care to be quiet. 

“He died, Wasp. It would have been too much.” The doctor’s coat of Bruce Banner was the first thing Clint saw. He and Tony Stark were the only ones wearing normal clothes while all the others were decked out in their bright coloured tight uniforms. 

“He found his soulmate, Bruce. He deserves to know.” Even with the mask it was obvious Wasp was glaring at him. 

“He was exhausted and needed rest. If he had told Hawkeye he would be rushing to find Loki. So I’m with the doctor on this one.” Stark put one hand on his cocked hip and gestured with the other. “Speaking of which, you think the God is going to wake up soon?” 

“I hate that we’re keeping them in different rooms”, Wasp said and crossed her arms over her chest. 

_ Loki is here!  _ Nothing else mattered. He only listened for a bit longer in hopes of getting a clue of that room’s location, but didn’t remember anything of less importance. 

The metal of the vent grew warmer or he got better accustomed to it. Bolts dug into his thighs and hope into his heart. He wanted to keep going and going until he found Loki, but his body was telling him it would soon be time for a break. Not yet, though. Just a little more, a little farther. He was close, he could feel it. Any second he would…

An empty room, divided by a clear wall that had small holes and a door with another metal door on the other side of the wall. Clint was just about to crawl further a glimpse of green and black made him stop. 

His shaking hands failed to fiddle open the vent cover and his heart beat the beat of his nervous excitement. Patience failing him, he turned and started kicking at the cover until it finally gave on the fourth try. The sound of it hitting the ground echoed off the walls, but Clint didn’t care. He didn’t care about the non-bleeding scratch on his arm as he slipped out of the vent or about the dull pain radiating upwards from the impact of landing. 

Loki was looking like he had seen a ghost as he stared at Clint. His clothes weren’t fastened as tight as usual, his hair not as neat. His eyes were fixed on Clint’s neck, but was it at the lack of a wound or the markings Loki had left behind?

“You pushed me away and then you saved my life.” The words startled them both. Clint had no idea he was going to say that before he had opened his mouth and Loki’s eyes snapped upwards to look at his face. “And you’re my soulmate?” Too vulnerable, too insecure, but he would not take it back. He had died. If this wasn’t the time to go after what he wanted, there was no time. “I have been on my own basically my whole life. I strife to help people, but I also killed a lot of them. No soulmate would be okay with my need to go out and do it night after night again. I avoided it. I wanted to run away from soulmates and fell in love with mine instead.” Nerves worse than when he had been on the trapeze above the audience with no safety net coursed through his veins. He had already been rejected once. He could only gain here. 

Loki’s eyes widened. “Love? You can’t be serious. When I healed you, my magic must have-” 

“No, it didn’t”, Clint interrupted and stepped closer, but didn’t dare touch Loki. “That day in the snow? That’s when I started to realize.” 

“This is not real. That mark is a fluke. A figment of my imagination.” 

Clint grabbed fabric of Loki’s clothes. “Tell me where you want your soulmark and I’ll show you how real it is.” As confident as he presented himself, he was terrified there would only be unmarked skin where he touched Loki. The mark around his neck would never be filled in and all the love in Clint’s heart would have no target. 

Shaking pale fingers undid some more buckles or zippers or something and the folds of cloth parted to reveal stretches of pales skin, marred by old white scars that Clint wanted to explore. 

Loki’s breath caressed Clint’s ear and sent shivers down his back. He put a hand over his heart and Clint immediately pressed his lips to the spot. 

Lava hot lightning burned his neck as blurred blue and purple burst in front of his eyes. Clint’s legs gave out underneath him and arms wrapped around his waist to hold him up. 

Safe. He felt safe and grounded and like he had waited his whole life for this moment. 

Wonder soothed all the hurt that had accumulated. “It looks like feathers and snowflakes.” 

“Of course it does, my little bird.” Loki’s voice was as rough as Clint’s. One hand came up to cup Clint’s throat his thumb rubbing over the soulmark reveringly, before Loki’s chest inflated with a deep breath and steel reinforced his spine. “Amora had nothing to do with me getting close to you. I had not thought of her in years when you came along. It was her that decided you were perfect to use as bait. She was not smart enough to calculate that I would not stand by and watch you get hurt.” The set of his shoulders spoke of courage, but his eyes were as soft and open as the moment Loki had leaned over Clint’s dying form. This might be turning into Clint’s favorite Loki. “My father abandoned me. My second father deemed me unworthy again and again. I had a wife who left me for another. To care for someone is to lose them. I swore to never care for anyone but myself, but you, with your righteousness and willingness to aid anyone who might need it, just waltzed into my life like it had waited for you. Seeing you die.” Loki’s breath hitched and Clint felt hot tears spill down his own cheeks. “Something inside me died with you. I can’t bear watching it again. I pushed you away to keep you out of danger and now you’re bound to me.” His smile was helpless and wondrous and fierce. “This collar is going to show everyone that you belong to me and that I will protect you until the end of time.” 

“You’re such a sap. I will make fun of you for that later, when I’m not this happy anymores.” 

“Please do.” That meant there would be a later for them and Loki intended to take full advantage. Now that he allowed himself to have this he would take tomorrow, a week, a year, a decade, a century. Because he was selfish and possessive, he would take it all and never let his little bird go ever again. 

Fortunately Clint knew how to break out of cages and always came back, before he flew too far away from his heart. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, consider a Kudos or a comment, I would be incredibly happy.  
> Also new [Tumblr](https://sarcastic-mess-writing.tumblr.com/) because mine got deleted in the NSFW purge for no goddamn reason. (It's been six months and I'm still fucking furious about that.)


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